Page 36 of Ruthless Sinner
I wasn’t about to lie and say it was a pleasure to meet him. I had a feeling that he would see right through me and would be annoyed.
“Complained about me a lot, has he?”
“No, actually. Marco cares a lot about you.” Again, I couldn’t lie and say Marco respected him, even if I suspected that was actually the case. Marco would probably rather die than admit that. “So he only complains about you sometimes. Once a week.”
The head of the Russo crime family stared at me, and then chuckled quietly. Even his chuckle was cold. No wonder these boys had turned into the kind of men they had. I wondered about Mr. Russo’s wife, Marco’s mother, and what kind of woman she must have been to warm up this glacier.
“You seem more on your toes than the last dozen,” Mr. Russo finally stated.
“Life’s given me a lot to stay on my toes about,” I replied. “You can worry about plenty of things at the reception, Mr. Russo. I believe the chief concern should be keeping the Petrovs in line. But I won’t be one of those things.”
Mr. Russo peered at me. His gaze was one of the most piercing I’d ever met. It was hard not to squirm. I felt like he could see right through me, like I had an FBI badge stamped on my heart and he’d be able to find it.
“See that you aren’t,” he said eventually, and then he turned around to face front again.
I slowly, silently let out a breath of relief. I hadn’t expected approval, but it wasn’t condemnation. I’d take it.
Everyone settled, Vincent took his spot, and the bridesmaids walked down the aisle. A couple of them seemed to be Marla’s friends or family, since they looked genuinely happy to be there. A couple others looked blank—probably hiding sourness—and I remembered the shockwaves that had rippled through the mafia world (and our division) when Vincent Russo had chosen to marry this random woman and not some powerful don’s daughter.
Some of those daughters were probably still sore over it.
Then the music changed and Marla walked in.
She didn’t look at all how I’d pictured her. There was something both demure and coy about her. She carried herself like a queen, but a benevolent one. And the way she looked at Vincent made me not only reconsider how I should view him, it made me…
I tore my gaze away from Marla and looked over at Vincent. He stared back at her like she was the only person in the room, a look of pure adoration on his face. I’d never seen him look like that before. Hell, I hadn’t thought Vincent Russocouldlook like that.
I want Marco to look at me like that.
Envious. Marla and Vincent made meenvious.
Now that I’d had the thought, I couldn’t take it back. I couldn’t unknow it. I wanted Marco to look at me with that same level of love and adoration on his face. I wanted to be able to look at him the way Marla looked at Vincent, openly and unashamedly in love.
But I couldn’t ever have that. I was going to put Marco and the rest of his family, including this lovely couple, in prison. Marla and Vincent would be separated. And I’d never get to be with Marco again. Even if he wanted me, for some insane reason—it was hard to have a proper relationship when one of you were in jail. Given the number of enemies the Russos had, I didn’t have high hopes for any of them living long in prison anyway.
As the vows were said and we all stood up to politely clap, my head swam. I felt like I was underwater with everything muffled. For the first time I was facing the truth that I’d worked so hard to skirt around:I didn’t want to turn Marco in.
As if I’d summoned him, Marco appeared next to me, his arm wrapping around my waist. “Vincent and Marla are doing a receiving line but he wants us to go ahead to the reception and make sure everything’s under control.” He rolled his eyes. “I think he just wants to avoid me running into any exes in the crowd.”
“How many do you have?” I asked lightly, completely unbothered by the prospect.
It didn’t matter that Marco had exes among the mafia nobility. He hadn’t dated them for as long as he’d dated me, and I was sure that he hadn’t dared be as vulnerable and open to them because they’d just take it back to their families and use it.
Just like you’re doing with the FBI.
I banished that thought, even as my stomach twisted uncomfortably.
Marco made a face. “Too many,” he growled. “But to be fair, they were using me just like I was using them. It was all a game. Either they wanted to use me as a stepladder to get to my older brother, the actual heir—or they hoped to marry me and goad me into having some damn ambition and replacing my brother. None of which was going to happen so I just untangled myself from that nonsense as fast as I could.”
“They should know that you’d never replace Vincent.”
Marco looked at me with an odd light in his eyes, one that took me a minute to realize was appreciation. “Yes. Thank you.”
“A girl’s gotta appreciate her man.”
“And a man’s gotta appreciate his girl. Too bad we don’t have time to slip away and have a little fun.”
“I’m trying to play nice with your family, get on their good side. A little afternoon delight isnotgoing to help.”
